


Wasting Time

by ThymeTraveler



Category: Mass Effect, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bilbo is So Done, Bilbo swears like a sailor, F/M, Female Bifur, Female Bilbo, Female Dwalin, Female Nori, Female Ori, IN SPACE!, Rule 63, She is technically a Marine, Suspence, basically the Hobbit in a Mass Effect setting, cursewords, i have a full storyline planned, i have the plan, i just have to write it out, since I don't actually know that much about Mass Effect, soft sci-fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymeTraveler/pseuds/ThymeTraveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time counting down on the clock and she's wasting it on her last words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sirens screaming in her ears, alerts warring for her attention, the clanging and shrills of tortured metal, inhuman cries echoing in the halls outside, and all she cared about was the voice on the other end of the commlink.

"What’s wrong, Baggins?" 

Gulping in a breath, she looks around. “Heavy resistance on the way to the pod bay, we took a few more hits. I’m out of med gel. O’Connell is nearly unconscious and her comm is out.” She stops, unwilling to continue her list of exactly what’s wrong with her situation. Gasping in what is probably the last of her oxygen supply. 

"Then get the hell out of there, Baggins! I only let you go that way because you said there were escape pods! The techs say you only have five minutes left!" 

She huffs out a laugh bordering on manic. “Well, I may or may not have been only hoping that there were escape pods, all right? The fucking goblins must have gotten here first. All pods damaged beyond immediate repair.” 

A silence echoed down the link, strangely loud in the clamor of the derelict escape pod bay. Then, words she feared, quick, breathless. “Stay there, we’re coming back for you.” 

_Four minutes…_

Suddenly, she’s angry. “The hell you are, Commander Durin! Need I remind you, Sir, that there is a whole ship’s worth of people still within the damn blast radius for this monstrosity and it’s your responsibility to get them out!” 

"Yes, and that means my whole crew, Lieutenant Baggins!"

"With all due respect, Sir, two lives versus the survival of a ship and its crew? I’m asking you to get the Shadowfax out of range now. I’m already killing two people today, do not make me responsible for any more." She’s deflating now, beginning to accept that she won’t make it, beginning to realize that she’s wasting time on these worthless words, her final words.

"No, no I won’t leave you there. I can’t. Mahal, Bilbo, what…” She can hear muffled voices in the background, imagines she can hear Captain Grey throwing out his orders. Poor man was probably going to blame himself, since it had been his idea initially: her being assigned to the Shadowfax.

“Captain Grey, Sir, if you can hear me, get the Shadowfax out of range. There’s nothing… you can do.” Her voice maintains the steadiness until the end, when her throat closes for a moment. Whether it’s grief, rage, or regret, or even a combination of all three, she’s not sure. 

_Three minutes…_

She snaps herself back to listen, to strain to capture the soft voice of the other life trapped in this hellhole with her. Pushing through the growing muzziness of her brain that registers as oxygen deprivation, she murmurs into the comm. “Thor…Thorin? Ori wants Kili…and Fili to know she’s sorry. About all this. Never meant to get separated. Never meant for this to happen.” 

His voice is shaking, desperate. “I will, I promise, I… Fucking damn it, Bilbo, why?” 

She doesn’t answer the question, asks one of her own. “Is the Shadowfax out of range yet?” She has to know, she needs to know her new family will be safe. 

_Two minutes…_

Behind his voice, she can hear an eerie silence punctuated by clicks, like ticks on a clock. The countdown. “The Shadowfax is away.” The response is low, flat, he’s furious. 

She sighs, a relief and a struggle with oxygen running low. “I needed to know you were safe. That you were all safe. That you were safe even when I couldn’t be there.” She doesn’t know if the conversation is being listened to by the rest of the ship, at this point she could give a flying rat’s ass. There are words she needs to say, if she can remember them.

_One minute…_

"Thorin, I-I am sorry. I should have never let this go on so long." 

There’s an intake of breath, and the jabbering outside the barricaded door is growing even louder. "Bilbo…" 

"Let- let me finish." Her words are slurring, vision going fuzzy. "You are the w-worst idiot I have ever met in my en-entire life, you’re harsh, you speak w’out thinkin’, and have the most a-atrocious social graces I have ever seen in anodder livin’ bean." 

_Thirty seconds…_

"And I still- I love you. Far m-more than I can say." O’Connell’s hand is tightly held in her left, a blaster pointed at the weakening door in her right, breathing growing ragged. "I love you, Thorin."

_Ten seconds…_

"Bilbo…" Hushed and choking, he sounds on the verge of tears, which sets her off, moisture threading down her grubby face, though there’s no time. 

_five seconds…_

"I love…" 

The door is bowing inwards. 

_Three, two, one…_

No time left.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Preview:_

"I need to know if you can be professional here, Commander."

"Come on, boys. Touch-down's in an hour."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Shit, shit, shit, shitshitshit _shit!_ "

"SPIDERS INBOUND!"

" _WHAT."_

Bilbo stares around, dumbfounded, exhausted, bleeding, and completely lost. " _Motherfucker_..."


	3. Before the Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Bilbo get into this mess in the first place?

Grey surveyed the room. “Be prepared for the worst, the distress signal was broadcast on priority channels. There are a lot of unknowns, but the plan is simple: two teams go in, find out what happened, and then get out. Mark your path so as to not get lost if we need to get out in a hurry. Understood?”

The quiet rumble of assent relaxed the Captain’s venerable shoulders. “Very well, assemble your teams. Durin, Bolton – a word. As for the rest of you…” The room went still.

“ETA is six hours. Dismissed.”

Thorin watched the crew file out the door, his eyes latching onto a smaller body much longer than the others.

“Durin. If you’re ready?” He hated being caught staring, glaring up at his much taller Captain.

“Go ahead, sir.”

Grey waited until the door had closed behind the last retreating crew member. “I need to know if you can be professional here, Commander.”

Thorin felt his spine stiffen. The sheer gall of the Istari, and in front of his cousin, no less! Grey simply continued, ignoring the dirty look.

“I know the history of your people, and I know the history of your family. The recovery of Khazad Dum is a mathematical impossibility, considering how thoroughly the Dwarves were driven from the planet and the loss of the mining facilities… If your father did indeed find the Erebor Asteroid…”

An awkward silence settled over the table. Thorin had tried not to think about it, and yet had gone over the situation in his head a million times in the years since the disappearance of his father’s mission. If his father had found the Erebor Asteroid, why hadn’t he sent word? A vid? Even a ping on an omnitool. But there had been nothing, for fifty years.

Grey’s voice once again jolted him from his thoughts. “…I need your word that you will remain focused. This is a scouting vessel, not a battle-wagon.”

“I will do my best.” Thorin spoke through gritted teeth.

Grey nodded sagely at him. “Then I can ask no more.” Insufferable prick.

By the Maker, _Erebor_. Erebor, an ancient colony, an outpost of Dwarvish Space, where the wealth and power of his people was founded, shaped, and cemented.

Where, nearly five centuries before, a blow had been dealt to the Dwarvish Empire that had only recently been reversed.

He shook himself, half-listening to Gloin’s assessment of the forth-coming mission, the pros, the cons, the possible outcomes. His process was much simpler: either they found his father or they didn’t.

 

She really needed something to keep her hair back. She blew her bangs out of her eyes, again, took aim, and squeezed.

The pops sliced through the targets, one, two, three. Kill-shots all.

“Hey, Sting, what gives? Jones-ing for commander?”

“Fuck you, Bofur.” The mustachioed dwarf’s grin only grew wider. Seriously, half the time Bilbo didn’t understand the dwarven obsession with intricate facial hair. So impractical in battle.

“Oh-ho, something _is_ bothering you. You only go straight to curse words when you are actually pissed. What, have a widdle fight with widdle fiancé?” She turned away from admiring her target work to glare at Bofur moving to put her sniper rifle away. An old tease, but more than she was willing to take at the moment.

“Hey hey hey, why you stopping? Was just getting good!” Two more dwarves, a brunet closely followed by a blond, whom in her mind she had dubbed Moon-Calf and Sunshine, stomped up to glare at the laughing Bofur. Moon-calf, or Private Kili in public, wobbled his lower lip at her in an attempt to look innocently pathetic. “Come on, we came just to see you shoot.”

 She huffed. “And this is why I need a private shooting gallery.”

Sunshine, also known as Fili (Kili’s long-suffering older brother), turned to frown at Bofur. “What did you say to her, Bofur? She’s more sarcastic than usual.”

Bofur’s chuckles turned into outright guffaws, so much so that Kili demanded to know what was so funny. Fili turned back to Bilbo, only to find her halfway out the door. “LT!”

“Sorry, boys. Not feeling it today. Touch-down’s in an hour – better get ready.”

 

 

“Gloin, you have Blue Squad. Red Squad, with me. Stay alert, we don’t know what’s down there.” The airlock hissed open, and his visor lit up with readings.

Low oxygen environment, better to keep the helmets on. No biotic signatures so far…

“Something is frazzling our sensors.” Baggins’ voice at his elbow would have startled him once, but after nearly two years together on the Shadowfax, they worked like a well-oiled machine. She had his six, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. There were few others Thorin wanted at his back.

“Looks like it. Move out, stay in range of your squads.”

The squads split and Thorin lead the way down the crumbling corridor. He couldn’t quite help staring at the decaying décor, ancient designs of his people, of his family…

“You’re holding up the line, Durin.” The soft voice in his ear, over a private line, snapped him out of his reverie. “Right, if you’re going to be this stupid, maybe I should be on point.”

He growled low. “Shut up, Baggins. I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.” She left it at that, and left Thorin in point. He could still feel her eyes on him. Not for the first time, he wondered what his mother would have thought of Baggins. He shook himself out of that train of thought. He needed to focus. Either way, there was nothing between him and the feisty lieutenant, as much as he wished there was. There was no point in wondering. They were friends, just friends.

“Sir, sensors are picking up a power source.”

“Head for it.”

 

 

Bilbo was worried. The Commander was far too distracted, as they picked their way through the disintegrating hallways of the dead ship. She shuddered, trying very hard not to think about what Grey had told her.

_He’s lost a lot to this place, Bilbo._

No, don’t think – just keep walking. Keep the gun up, check the corner, don’t think.

_His father, his mother, his brother. And the prestige of his entire race._

Fuck. This wasn’t working. Too hyped up, too tense. The very stillness of this place made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end…

“LT?”

“Yeah, Ori?”

“You all right back there?”

She regarded Ori through her visor, the female dwarf staring right back.

“This place gives me the creeps, LT.”

Bilbo tried to grin at Ori, felt more like a grimace. “Doesn’t it just. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

Ori’s eyes weren’t on Bilbo. “Not my back I’m worried about.”

This time, Bilbo did grin. She liked this quiet dwarf. Rarely spoke around others, but when she spoke her piece… Sarcastic little shit. No wonder Fili and Kili adored her.

Bilbo turned back towards the corridor again, catching her toe on some unexpected rubble. Cursing as she stumbled and barely keeping her rifle in her hands, she grimaced.

“Hope nobody saw that.”

“I didn’t see anything.” The picture of innocence, that Ori. “Come on, LT, we’re falling behind.”

“Wait.” A flash caught the beam of her light and then vanished again.

“Huh?”

“What’s that?” Bilbo panned her lights over the same area, an alcove in the hallway, the doors stuck open and long-dead.

A tiny flickering glimmer.

“LT, what’s…”

“This way.”

“Just so you know; I have a bad feeling about this.”

Bilbo was too focused to agree, the reflected flicker of her flashlight calling to her, a deep thrumming in her mind. Through the ruined door, and into the alcove, which turned out to be much larger, and absolutely trashed. She forced herself to actually scan the room. An abandoned lab? Felt like the debris of centuries was piled in here. Dusty, full of cobwebs. Cobwebs. Cobwebs? She’d never seen cobwebs so big…

Suddenly, a chill screamed its way down her spine. Something was wrong, terribly, horrifically _wrong._

“LT, we need to go. Squad just turned the corner.” Ori had halted by the door.

“Stay there, O’Connell.” Bilbo’s dead response cut through Ori’s irritation.

“What?”

“Ori, stay there. That’s an order.”

“What.” Bilbo could barely hear the waver in Ori’s voice and, distantly through the blood rushing in her ears, she could hear the Commander bark a question. And beyond that, a silence and a heavy rustling.

“Hey, Durin. We have a bit of a problem.” The false cheer in her voice wasn't fooling anyone.

“Baggins, what’s going on?”

“We need backup, right now. There’s- something here.”

There were no more questions, just one response. “We’re coming.”

Bilbo swallowed hard, prepped her rifle, every sense straining, desperate.

 An alarm blared on her HUD, she looked up.

And screamed.


	4. The Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A more in-depth look at a specific scene from last chapter.

It had glittered and caught her eye, even through the clutter of the long-abandoned room. She had to see what it was, had to have it. Vaguely, she wondered if she had gone mad, searching for a shiny bit of trash in a bit pile of other trash. Maybe she had inherited the family tendency to collect and hoard pretty little trinkets.

She spoke mechanically to Ori, rousted around in the dust- dust?- and found the sparkling thing. It looked like a jewel, glowing from within. It held her eyes, seemed to reach into her brain, deep down into warmth, comfort, home.

_Wait, what?_

Bilbo shook herself, blinking rapidly. What the hell?

She examined it critically, didn’t look like eezo. Polished to a high shine with barely any discernible cut marks, the stone fit into her palm almost as though it was made for it. The buzz at the back of her skull eased off and actually vanished. She could hear much better. The world seemed to sharpen, like cleaning a viewscreen and suddenly seeing the sun.

Actually looked at what she was rooting through. Her stomach swooped and the breath left her lungs. It wasn’t trash, mixed in with the dust and the damn cobwebs.

Bones. _Bodies_. In various states of decay, some looked like they had been there for years. Dwarves. Goblins. Some small things with far, far too many legs for comfort. Scattered, wrapped up in silken, sticky threads.

She shouldn’t be here. _Fuck_ , she really should not be here right now.

They all needed to get out of here.

 

Ori was talking again. Thank the Valar, she wasn’t alone. But she really did not want to be in here right now.

There was armor on some of the bodies. She knew that crest, had done her own research after Gandalf had talked to her. Told her the story around the ship and the history of the race that had flown to the height of civilization and then fallen to the depths of despair.

_What am I going to tell Durin? That I just looted what looks like his father’s corpse?_

There was rustling, why was there rustling?

She was the only one in here.

Shitfuck.


	5. Into The Fray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori becomes disoriented and things go horribly, horribly wrong.

_She never actually heard herself scream. A shredding, metal-on-metal shriek that couldn’t possibly be alive, but somehow was. Her eardrums were bleeding, she swore they were._

_She fought against the impossible weight bearing down on her, avoiding blade-like fangs and a stinger that dripped poison. She refused to die here. She refused. No giant fucking space spider was going to eat her!_

Ori could do nothing, _nothing!_ She tried firing her semi-automatic into the body of the beast, but that made it worse. So much worse. The horrid thing only became more angry and thrashed around, knocking loose some of the hanging bundles. They scattered on the ground, burst open and spilled what looked like…bones. Oh Maker save us. Some of Ori’s shots went wild, struck the walls. More rustling, and shrieks that made her teeth hurt. More spiders… more came out of the woodwork, literally. Smaller, but no less terrifying. The sizes ranged from dinner plates to goddamn wolves.

“Space spiders, in-bound!”

“WHAT!?”

She panicked and fired into the swarm, managed to hit a few but it didn’t deter the rest, who pounded towards her and were surrounding her now. She fired and fired, felt the heat-sink begin to melt through her armor.

Dimly, she heard a voice screaming, “Shit shit shit shitshitshit SHIT!”

“O’Connell. Not. Helping!” Baggins’ strained voice, pushed through gritted teeth as the Lieutenant fought for her own life, cut through the panicked battle-haze in Ori’s mind. Other voices intruded, their squad…

_“-aggins, we’re coming! Fuck off, you bastards! O’Connell! Report! O’Con-”_

_“Shadowfax, this is Squad Blue, do you read?! Shadowfax, this is ground-”_

_“ORI!”_

There was the Commander and the rest of the squad, obviously engaged by the- somethings. But Baggins was still fighting the shrieking, writhing monstrosity. Dimly, Ori realized. Fuck, she’d been the one screaming, explained why her throat hurt. Where the hell were the others?

_“Baggins, do you copy!?”_

_“Where the fuck did these fuckers fucking come from!?”_

_“Does anyone read, hello!? This is Squad Blue-”_

Something hit the back of her head and she nearly fell. Kicking a spider that had gotten too close, she surged back to her feet. The swarm was forcing her into CQC, not her forte. She fired again, finally hearing an echoing report down the hall, where the swarm extended its horrid, clicking, furry mass.

_“Fuckin’ hell!”_

_“Ori! Ori, answer me!”_

_“Squad Blue, what the fuck is going-”_

There were too many voices, screaming for answers and Baggins, just clinging to a thread of hope.

She lost focus for a moment, wondering how she had gotten so lost in the fight. Just for a moment, but it was enough.

Several things happened in the space of a few seconds:

A great, grinding creak reverberated through the room and the floor shook. Then fell. Taking the gigantic spider and Baggins with it.

Ori wailed, but then the rest of the spiders were on her and she lost all sense of time, only on instinct beating off the hideous, chittering mass of eight-legged freaks. She could only last so long, felt her knees impact the floor, and she knew she was dead. They all were dead, there was nothing she could do. _Nothing._


	6. What's To Become of Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Squad Blue walk into a catastrophe...

Dwarves, renowned all around the galaxy for their fierceness in battle, the sheer strength of their species, were known for another reason: deadly over short distances. Blue Squad hit the enemy like a battering ram.

Charging the horde of spiders, Thorin tossed arachnid bodies left and right, focusing on the larger ones, the smaller bastards already retreating. _No Soldier Left Behind._ Two of his squad were somewhere in this brawl and he was not leaving them to die. Out of the corner of his eye, Dwalin and Dorian ripped apart one of the larger spiders with their bare hands, revulsion on their faces and in their tense stances. Dori could not be happy at this moment, considering who exactly was under attack. Thorin didn’t even pause.

“Gunny, sit-rep!”

Dwalin answered instead, her tone dry and angry as she fired on a charging foe. “Shit-load of fuckin’ spiders, Sir. Torcal got bit, medgel patched the wound relatively well but it’s still bleeding. No sign of O’Connell or Baggins.”

Dori seemed to be unable to answer, rushing into the fray head-on, screaming in rage, begging for his sister to answer over the comms. Completely out of character, but Thorin understood. He had someone caught in this clusterfuck too. Still, had to keep a level head, despite the fact that they could be…

No. Fuck that. Fuck that noise right in the ass with a cactus. _Sideways._ If this shit was going to hell in a handbasket, he might as well make it fucking count. He needed to get control of the situation, and fast.

“Gunny! REPORT!” That seemed to snap Dorian out of the haze for a moment, though it did mean his shot went wide.

“Fuck! Sir, I’m a little busy!”

“We’re all busy, ass-hole! Report!”

“No sign of either of them, we haven’t gotten past the damn corner!”

“All right, then we push through! Du Bekar!” Thorin waded into the melee, roaring the ancient war cry. It set his blood to singing and made the whole damn squad perk up. And with a last push, they turned the corner.

Dwalin was the one to catch sight of their besieged comrade in the swarms. “There!”

Thorin could not see Bilbo. _Where is she?_

 O’Connell looked terrible, black blood streaking her body-armor, breathing heavily. Thorin was amazed she still stood. Dorian screamed again. “Ori! Oriana, answer me!”

Ori’s eyes snapped up, but there was no recognition in them, she was too far into the fight. Thorin prepared to lead another charge.

A deep, echoing rumble, accompanied by a shrill, grinding shriek of metal giving way, put paid to that particular plan.

Ori’s gaze was riveted to a doorway, where a plume of dust rose as the whole corridor shook and buckled. Thorin’s heart froze, please _Mahal_ no. She couldn’t have…

A sound like a wounded animal echoed in the silence after the dust settled.

Thorin saw Ori fall, vanish under a wave of spiders. “O’Connell! DU BEKAR!”

One last charge, dwarven voices chanting their fury, their fire, and Thorin would find her. He had to.

As luck would have it, the spiders were truly scattered by the last frantic charge. Most of the larger ones had been destroyed, and the smaller ones fled, leaving behind the detritus of battle. Freakish twisted bodies, black insectoid blood, a feebly stirring dwarrow dam…

“O’Connell!”

The gunney shoved past Thorin to kneel at his sister’s side, turning her over from where she had fallen flat on her face. “Ori, Ori love, answer me! Please, Ori!” He continued to beg as the squad crowded around their fallen comrade. Her armor was a complete mess, covered in scratch marks and blood, most of it a thick viscous blue-black. A rapidly deepening bruise mottled one side of her face, blacking her eye socket and cheek, while blood leaked from a split lip. She looked terrible.

Several baited breaths later, “D-Dorian?”

Dori slumped forward, a puppet with cut strings, gasping for breath, almost sobbing. Thorin felt a knot in his stomach ease, until Ori spoke again.

“Wh-where’s the LT? We have to find her, she fell. She fell- There was a brood mother-Biggest I’ve ever seen-It jumped the LT- Thought I was going insane…” Ori trailed off, Dori easing her up to a sitting position as the medigel began to kick in.

Thorin spoke through a vice on his throat. “O’Connell, where did you last see her? Where was Baggins?”

“Thorin.”

Ori did not answer straight away, but her eyes strayed to where Thorin feared they would: the doorway on the right. “There.”

“Thorin.”

Thorin turned to Dwalin, standing next to the door, semi-automatic trained on the broken entrance. Her stance was stiff, her hands firm. “What?”

“The spider trails come from that door.”

“Fuck.” He strode over to join her, peering into the cavernous darkness. “What do you see?”

“Jack-shit, not sure if I want to light the place so I can see. What if the brood mother is still alive?”

“Then we kill it.”

“It dropped on her, and then- then the floor fell in.” Ori’s cracked voice halted the conversation. No one was sure what to say to that.

“How are we supposed to find her in here? Darker than Hell’s Asscrack.” Dwalin hissed. Thorin hissed right back.

“Just turn on your flashlight, damn you. She has to be here. Baggins, do you read?”

Dwalin rolled her eyes but did as ordered, shining the light down into the collapsed alcove. Nearly two stories down, the full horror of what Baggins and O’Connell had faced stared up at them.

“Holy Fuck.” Thorin could barely breathe. _Please, no._ _Not again._

Dwalin whistled low, her face pale and grim through the visor. “Mahal’s bloody fucking Balls, Ori wasn’t kidding when she said biggest motherfucker she’d ever seen.”

The brood mother was enormous, ridiculously so. Filthy, hairy, covered in scars, sores, and bald patches, the thing must have been ancient. And now very, very dead. At least, it looked dead. Limbs splattered in black viscous ichor, scattered and curled in grotesque positions. Dwalin growled. “It’s got to be a trap. There’s no way she survived a fall like that with that bastard on top of her.”

Swallowing hard, Thorin forced himself to speak, his voice wobbling slightly. “Baggins, do you read? Report, Baggins.”

“Sir, we have to get out of here, it’s no use. She’s… She’s gone, Thorin. There’s nothing you can do.”

He steadfastly ignored Dwalin. Ignored the looks of pity and regret he was receiving from the rest of the squad. “Baggins, do you read? _Please…_ ”

Repeated the request for information, for anything, any sign she still breathed, over and over again. His heart in his throat, pounding painfully. The comms remained stubbornly silent, distant crackling the only response. Behind him, he heard O’Connell whimper, in pain or grief, he wasn’t sure. Closed his eyes, as though it would stop the burning tears threatening to fall.

_Nothing, there was nothing. He was nothing._

“Baggins, I swear, if you don’t answer me-”

“Thorin!” Dwalin’s strangled voice cut through his misery.

No, Dammit! I am not leaving, Dwalin! Not yet!”

She kicked him and pointed at the giant corpse of the space spider. “Look there!”

Thorin looked and his heart began to race. Dwalin groaned, “The fucker is still moving…”


	7. Hold the Dam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relief at last, we hope...

It was dark and she couldn’t _breathe_ with the fucking gas-giant on her chest. Crackling voices echoed in her ears but nothing was quite making it through the agony-induced haze in her brain. Everything hurt, probably going to be one spectacular bruise in the morning. She always did bruise easy.

_“-aggins, I swear, if you d-”_

Moving, moving was good. She was not going to even think about the _thing_ on top of her, she needed to breathe and move and get out of this hellhole. The voices were familiar, telling her to move. She moved, shoving her way up and out on her side, crawling on her belly.

_“-! I am not leaving, Dwalin. Not-”_

Her stomach decided now was a good time to be very, very upset. And with her head pounding like the bass line at those concerts Bofur liked to drag her to…

Oh, that felt like a concussion. Perfect. Just what she needed. She _hated_ being on the injured list, it was boring and painful and Durin always gave her shit for getting hurt.

Commander Durin. The Squad. Ori. _Thorin._

“Fffffffuck…” The curse whistled out from between her gritted teeth, as she shoved against the body of the brood mother. Oh, gods, was that a leg? Mahal fucking wept, that is disgusting. She thrust it away from her body.

_“-fucker is still moving…”_

That got her attention. If this bad bastard was still living, she wanted out. Now. She punched one of the medigel cartridges and the pain began to fade. She didn’t wait for the meds to work, you worked through pain. Pain was weakness leaving the body. At least, that’s what she liked to tell herself. She hated pain, even though her tolerance was ridiculous compared to normal beings. You didn’t get through Dunedain training without becoming used to ridiculous amounts of pain. Didn’t mean she had to like it.

The voices had halted, maybe they had asked a question? She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and rasped out a reply.

“I would really like to get out of here.”

“Baggins!?”

The darkness was pierced by a bright light, then two. Her brain exploded into agony.

“Cock-sucking Ass-Shit! Fuck!” The last profanity was rolled into a grating, grinding groan that swiftly evolved into a whimper. She hated being in pain.

There was a dry chuckle, she would know it anywhere. “Holy Shit, the bitch made it.”

A chorus of replies blasted her ears, clamoring to get her attention. She decided she would get to them later, she had a Dwarf to complain at.

“Go fuck yourself, Fundin. And turn off the damn lights, ‘s doing nothing for my head-ache.”

Through the pounding ache in her head, Thorin’s voice trembled only slightly. She could listen to him speak all day. Gorgeous voice, deep and thrumming.

“Baggins, what’s your status? Besides the headache.”

She groaned and mentally took stock, shifting closer to the wall below the door. “Possible concussion, I am one gigantic fucking bruise, somehow managed to avoid breaking any bones, and I would really like to get out of this fucking hole sooner rather than later.”

“Hold on a sec. Anybody got a rope?”

“Rope, he says. Aren’t there biotics on this damn team?” She knew there weren’t, they had been mainly the tech team, sent to find the control hub for the station. And the Bridge. There had to be records somewhere on this ridiculous ship.

Damn thing was old enough there weren’t any computer terminals in the hallways. Hopefully the bridge was still intact…

She only jumped a little when the cord thudded down in front of her nose. But damn, she was feeling better already.

“…at happened? Baggins?”

Oh right, people were talking to her. “What the fuck d’you mean, _what happened?_ I got a fucking gigantic brood-mother dropped on my head and only managed to kill it with a whole lot of goddamn luck.” Winced, a tad nastier than she usually spoke in front of the men.

Dwalin snorted. “By all means, elaborate.”

“Well-”

A loud creak echoed from behind her, she spun around to check the room, heard at least seven weapons being cocked, including her own on instinct. She swallowed hard, looked up straight into the commander’s eyes. “Can I get out of here first? Please?”


	8. Stay On The Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo feels herself falling and proceeds to ignore it and everyone else.

“Words, we are going to have words.”

“You can have all the words you like.” His relief remained unspoken, but palpable. Thorin surveyed his only slightly damaged lieutenant. She was filthy, even more than O’Connell, brackish blood and the dust of the ages coating most of her armor. “Can you make it to the end?”

He couldn’t see her face through her scratched and cracked helmet, but Bilbo Baggins’ defiant stance put paid to that question.

“Right, we move on. I don’t know if we woke anything up with all that racket, let’s continue not waking anything up. We are now under radio silence.” As much as he wanted to confirm with Bilbo that she was all right, as much as he was sure that even if he did talk to her, she would lie and suffer in silence.

Dunedain Rangers were like that: stoic and used to pain. Didn’t mean he had to fucking like it. Still, he kept his mouth shut. Baggins was proud and hated being a nuisance. He would quietly force her to the medbay when they got back to the Shadowfax. Now was definitely _not_ the time.

Swiftly, Blue Squad took up positions and began to walk again. There were some heavier steps and everyone was still breathing a little harder than usual, but the unnatural stillness went on. Maybe they had actually lucked out and nothing else was coming.

Thorin didn’t believe it for a goddamn minute.

 

The silence continued, both on the radio and in the ship. Bilbo could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight so hard they would have pierced skin.

The damn radio silence was also intensely frustrating. Adrenaline was wearing off and the stupid medigel may have taken the edge off her injuries but her ribs and head ached something awful.

She really could have used conversation, even better if Ori was giving her shit for almost dying on her, talking would help distract her from the pain. A distraction…

_They had no warning, the swarms took over._

Hallways stretched on for an age and more and Bilbo was very ready to just go back to the Shadowfax and sleep for said age. Sleep was good, but after the giant space spider fuck-tastrophe, sleep wasn’t going to be happening anyway. Ever again.

_Pay attention, pay attention!_

They turned a corner, Bilbo made a mental note. Check those corridors if a chance presents itself. Possible escape route?

No, just follow the squad. And the path. Dorian, nit-picky fuss-pot of a Gunny that he was, was also diligent in marking the way back to the shuttle. Now, where the hell were they? Several halls and doors led in different directions, and a battered sign on the wall. Scanners said entrance to… the last word clawed and scratched away and replaced with…Necro-sign?

Of all the fucking abandoned stations in all the fucking galaxies, they had to get the one station that was infested with fucking goblins. Fucking Black Speech.

She really didn’t want the automatic translator to be working, of course it was going to be the one thing still working in her goddamn piece of shite helmet. Probably said something like torture room- hold the fuck up, what?

Did that say bare-ass? Okay, so maybe the translator wasn’t working. Small mercies.

_Mercy that the previous occupants of this barracks did not receive._

Bilbo shook herself. Drifting was not good, drifting was bad.

_Not paying attention will get you and the squad killed._

Forcing herself to pay attention and follow the soldier plodding along in front of her, the sheer destruction of the place pressed on her eyeballs. Debris made the footing somewhat difficult, especially with her own injuries and keeping up with the squad. Good, something to focus on.

_Debris, bones, shattered armor, old blood. Screams echoing down the hallway._

“Baggins?”

“Fuck, what now?” Why the hell was everyone staring at her?

They’d stopped, why had they all stopped? _When_ had they all stopped? Where the hell had that giant door come from? That’s not good. Not good at all. Great, now she was losing time. Fuck.

Looks like she took too long to answer. Thorin stood in front of her. Opened a private channel. “…Bilbo? What’s wrong?”

It took every ounce of her somewhat considerable control not to scream in his face. Too much at stake, they were in enemy territory. “…I am fine, can we just keep moving?”

Thorin just looked at her for a long moment, let out a huff. “Come on, the Command Centre is this way.”

She followed right behind, let someone else be rear guard for a while. This place was giving her the fucking creeps.


End file.
